Lines Redrawn
by ArieSemir
Summary: Alliances are broken, and the strangest of bedfellows are fighting side by side. The powder keg that the Known Worlds has become will explode with the Andromeda Ascendant at its center. NOW COMPLETE
1. A Brief Intro, or Rumors and Kritta Fish

Rating--PG. I don't think there's anything that would even bring this to a 13.   
  
Summary--Hmm, can't really say much here. It's S4-ish, but as I haven't seen all of S4, there may be a few inaccuracies (but no spoilers for anything past S4 premier). All of the crew are featured, but it centers on Telemachus and Beka (not a romance).  
  
I'll say... alliances are broken and the strangest of bedfellows are fighting side by side. The powder keg that the Known Worlds has become will explode with the Andromeda Ascendant at its center.  
  
Pairing--Some 'ships are hinted, but no one ends with anyone... it's all very mysterious and ambiguous. Or I just can't properly end things.  
  
------------  
  
"I know that it is unnecessary to ask you once more if you're sure that you know your role..."  
  
"But you can't help it." A man chuckled. "Don't trouble yourself anymore than you must. I know my task, and I know where my loyalties lie."  
  
The first speaker might have mused on this for the seconds that passed before he spoke again. "Good. I have another request to make of you before you begin your mission. We have planned to hurt as few people as possible, but there is one in particular I would like you to watch over. You will be much nearer than I, though I do what I can when I am able."  
  
This man's voice fell, and he sounded as if he were speaking now to himself. "Everyday I know that my efforts are futile, but I continue to search each rumor that I hear."  
  
His companion nodded. He knew the person of whom the first man spoke. "I understand. I will send you word of my progress when I can."  
  
"I would wish you luck, my friend..."  
  
"...but you don't believe in it. I'd be offended except I don't either."  
  
---  
  
_Thanks again for the aquarium! Many people say all kritta fish are alike, but these have definite personalities, just as you said. I can spend hours watching their social behaviors and always find myself surprised by something new I observe. One in particular— a bit yellower than the rest with the most vivid blue stripes I've ever seen in a kritta, you remember?—has caught my eye. I am taking care of them with as much tender care as you prescribed, but I can tell that they know they are with someone else now! I hope your move was smooth and your new position at the Allia zoo provides you the research opportunities you were hoping for._  
  
---  
  
A/N: All right, I know it was short, but don't worry! The next bits will be longer and, for now, regularly added! I will even upload the first real chapter with this.


	2. Lieutenant Commander Insensitivity

Beka was sorting through her tiny cabin on the Maru as she did about twice a year, always vowing to throw out everything that she didn't need. As she was still doing it twice a year, she had never yet succeeded. She didn't suppose that she would this time, but it never ceased to prove an amusing jog down a messy memory lane.  
  
In a moment of... high emotion, she had tossed out Tyr's chainmail shirt into the hangar where her Maru rested. When she had later returned to her ship, the little pile of metal links had taken her by surprise, and she picked it up without thinking. She had progressed halfway to her bunk when she realized what she held, and by then, she had reasoned, it was too much effort to go and throw it out again.  
  
Now she held it, feeling the cool, heavy weight of the mail and the faint metallic odor that rose around it. Funny, she had never noticed that acrid scent on Tyr. The chainmail triggered a thousand memories she didn't know she possessed any longer, and she realized that she was recalling Tyr and the old days without bitterness or sad wonderment or even a trace of melancholy. Mostly she smiled as she remembered and chuckled at the empty room.  
  
A vibration in the Maru's deck told its captain that someone had come aboard. Beka jerked to her feet and dropped the chainmail to fall in a rippling heap. Momentary confusion stilled her—most of the Andromeda's crew knew better than to sneak onto the Maru without asking her permission, and the heavy footfalls she now heard didn't sound like any of the few she didn't mind entering her ship without warning, namely Harper, Trance, Rommie, or Dylan.  
  
A tall man with bronze skin and dark hair appeared in her doorway. She sighed. Telemachus Rhade was presuming an intimacy with her that she really didn't appreciate, to come aboard her ship this way. She folded her arms and favored him with an impatient look.  
  
He began without preamble. "We're receiving a distress signal from the Pratolcha system."  
  
Beka quirked an eyebrow. "Pratolcha? Now, where do I know that name from?" She thought for a few seconds, and then a neuron fired in just the right place. "We have a planet there, don't we—some Dragan slave planet the Andromeda Ascendant single-handedly rescued from their evil clutches?"  
  
Telemachus gave a short nod. "The world is called Perses."  
  
"Oh yeah, I remember them now. They re-named their world after the, what, mythical daughter of Andromeda?" She bit back a laugh. The Persese must have done a lot of research to dig up some old Earth story for their new name.  
  
This time Telemachus's nod was distracted as his eyes wandered to the silvery pile. "Mm." His gaze sharpened. "Beka, what is that?"  
  
She resisted a strong urge to kick the item aside and dismiss it as nothing. "It belonged to someone I used to know. Anyway, I really don't see what business it is of yours what I keep on my ship, so long as it's not a danger to anybody."  
  
As he glared, the Nietzschean ignored her words. "It's Tyr's, isn't it? Listen, Beka, I know that you had feelings for him, but he betrayed you and the Andromeda and the Commonwealth itself! I know what happened when you traveled to his planet, before he... fell to the Abyss."  
  
Telemachus was too busy riling his anger and glaring holes through the chainmail to notice Beka's sudden, dangerous look. "How can you keep anything that reminds you of him, after all that? You can't still be pining for that traitor."  
  
Before he could react, Beka had taken two strides to stand less than a foot from his face. Her voice could be heard three decks away. "How _dare_ you?!" Telemachus took a startled step backward. "How dare you presume to tell me what I feel, what I know, and _especially_ what I can or can't do?!"  
  
Telemachus continued to step away from Beka, who continued her harangue as she backed him against the closed door. "You know what happened, do you? Tell me, _Lieutenant Commander_, formerly Admiral of the Tarazed High Guard, were you there? Were you one of Tyr's slave girls?" She looked him up and down. "I would think the goatee would be dead giveaway, but maybe you grew it out later."  
  
"Beka, I think that's hardly—"  
  
"And, you know, I think I should remind that you that possession is still 9/10ths of Commonwealth law and that private property is just that." Her voice had quieted somewhat, but now it rose again as another thought struck her. "Besides, what do you know about betrayal anyway, Telemachus Rhade? Last I heard, the Commonwealth was holding _your_ ass for treason, and Dylan's gallant rescue—which you have to thank for your freedom and probably your life—nearly landed him a hard labor life sentence."  
  
She cocked her head in mock confusion. "So if one were to believe the 'facts' about Tyr's betrayal, wouldn't it be reasonable to believe the 'facts' about yours?"  
  
"You know I didn't betray anyone," Telemachus said, trying to assert himself.  
  
"I know? Tell me, how exactly do I know? For all I know, you're in league with Tyr, the Drago-Kazov, and the Magog." His expression changed rapidly as she spoke, from mild surprise to outright shock to outrage. "All right, maybe not the Magog," she conceded. "But I'd really like to know when I became all-knowing, and speaking of knowing, I bet there's a lot of things about Tyr you don't know. Like the time he saved Harper's life and nearly drowned in doing so, or when we were almost eaten by a giant space-thing and he kept me going by insisting that Dylan was alive when I 'knew' he was dead."  
  
Beka's voice fell. "Look, I realize that the chances that he did betray us are like 999,999 out of a million, and not that it's any of your damn business, but I'm not pining after him. Even so, he saved our lives dozens of times, and we had some good moments." She shook her head. "So don't come in here and tell me what you think you know about Tyr Anasazi now or ever again." She jerked her head in the direction of the door. "Get out."  
  
Telemachus looked like he wanted badly to say something, but he restrained himself and left without a word. Beka let out a breath she felt she'd been holding for a year and buried her head in her hands. On second thought, maybe she had been a little too hard on Rhade. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if a little shiny-eyed when it came to Dylan. She studied the chainmail and decided to leave it where it was. Hadn't Telemachus mentioned a distress call or something? She thought she'd better leave now and finish her travail here later.


	3. Obligatory Greek Ref's

A few minutes later, Beka was in Command, studiously avoiding Telemachus's eyes.

"Nice of you to join us, Beka," Dylan said with a grin. "Rhade told you about Pratolcha?"

"Yeah, he mentioned it. What's up?"

Andromeda appeared on a viewscreen. "We've received a mayday signal from Perses. It was audio only and claimed that the Drago-Kazov Pride had attacked them without provocation."

"So, it's the usual little guy in distress." She looked around at the solemn faces of her crewmates. "What's the big deal?"

"The message was addressed specifically to Commonwealth ships," Andromeda replied.

"Oh-kay. It's good intentions versus tactful avoidance of confrontation. I can understand that." Beka stepped behind the pilot's console.

Dylan crossed his arms and watched the data flashing near Andromeda's head on the viewscreen. "What do you think, Beka? Do we stay or do we go?"

"Well, you know I'm not the Commonwealth's biggest fan, but come on. These people named their planet after Andromeda's kid or whatever. If we abandon 'em now, I can guarantee you they'll never forgive us."

"I'm with you, boss," Harper said from his station. "Hey, maybe it'll earn us points with the Commonwealth populace if we ride to the rescue of Perases."

"Perses."

"Yeah, them too."

Dylan nodded his head slowly. "Trance?"

The golden being looked thoughtful for a moment and then dipped her head. "This is more important than you realize now, Dylan. Much will be revealed and more will be questioned."

"Rhade?"

"You've always been a loyal man, Dylan, even when it hurt you." Telemachus risked a brief glance at Beka. "I'm sure you'll make the right decision."

Dylan flashed Rommie a small smile. "And we all know a warship never backed away from a fight. Let's bring it."


	4. No One Likes the Dragans!

To everyone's relief, the Pratolchus system was deserted when Beka exited slipstream. The Andromeda and her crew were welcomed to the planet's surface as soon as they detected the familiar ship. Perses was small and out of the way enough that they had not heard the charges brought against Dylan Hunt and, considering the world's history with the Andromeda, wouldn't have believed the accusations anyway.

An extremely nervous man introduced himself as the President of the Free States of Perses, almost in tears at the recent attack. He kept repeating that he didn't understand why the Dragans had returned without reason and promised to enslave them after a momentous battle they were soon to fight.

"We'd heard that they had been weakened lately," the president said as he twisted his ceremonial cap. "If we'd had more time to prepare, we might have been able to drive them off, but as it is, they looted our factories and kidnapped many of our civilian workers. They were in and out too quickly for us to do anything but send that beacon."

Dylan was silent as he processed this information. Then, "What sorts of materials did they steal, Mr. President."

The man swallowed. "Th-they took munitions, Captain. Anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, they brought back to their ships. Their destroyers."

"Excuse me, sir, was it solely the Dragans who attacked you?" Dylan looked surprised at Rhade's interjection but said nothing.

Luckily, the president had known Tyr Anasazi when he had served aboard the Andromeda (though the Nietzschean himself would never have called it service), so he didn't flinch at seeing Telemachus's bonespurs. "That's correct. We've gathered reports that several witnesses heard the Dragans cursing their unfaithful people and bragging about a single, undisputed destiny. We've taken that to mean that the other Prides have abandoned them, though we have no idea why or how this happened."

"I've heard much of the same, Dylan," Rhade affirmed.

"Me too," Harper said, completely serious. "What??" he asked indignantly at his friends' expressions. "A guy likes to know what his arch-enemies are up to."

"Straight from the Harper's mouth," Beka said with a laugh. She quieted under Dylan raised eyebrow and save-it-for-later look but couldn't repress a smile. As Dylan, Rhade, and the slightly less nervous president conversed in solemn tones, she spaced out a little, imagining herself in battle against the Dragans, jabbing and weaving and generally reducing their flaunted fleet to space dust.

She tuned back into the conversation when Harper was waving his hands in front of her face, telling her that it was time to leave. Beka replied that she knew that very well and hurried to catch up with Rhade, Dylan, and Trance.

When the crew arrived back on the Andromeda, the ship's A.I. informed them that indeed she had found traces of a Drago-Kazov fleet littering the system, ending at a slip portal opened several hours ago.

"No problem, Rom-a-lon! Beka once followed a freighter's three day old slipportal through no less than four galaxies," Harper called out when the android expressed concern that the trail might be cold by now.

Beka tried to look modest as she grasped the controls and readied the ship for slipstream.


	5. Enter the Magog, stage left

The Andromeda entered the Allpoints system to a chaotic scene of flashing weapons fire and exploding metal. The system was composed of a small yellow sun, a few lifeless planets, and one of the most important slipstream nexuses in the Known Worlds—the reason for the only inhabited place in the system, the bustling Winnipeg Drift.

Andromeda began a series of rapid updates as soon as the slipportal opened into Allpoints. "Dylan, the Drago-Kazov are definitely in the system, but they're not the only ones. I'm seeing Sabra-Jaguar ships, all sorts of other Nietzschean designs that I can barely identify before they're hit, including Al-Sharif, Altreus, and Mandau. I can't be sure in this mess, but I think the Dragans are fighting just about everyone else."

A view of the battle appeared next to Andromeda, and as the crew watched—still unnoticed by anyone else in the system—another fleet exited slipsteam and joined the commotion.

"Andromeda," Dylan called out, "are those what I think they are?" He sounded like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"If you think those are Collectors, then yes."

The ship and crew watched in stunned silence as the Commonwealth ships entered the fray and failed to fire upon the Drago-Kazov ships.

"Interesting how they're firing on all the Nietzscheans except the Dragans," Beka noted. "With all those big ships, you'd think they'd be pretty hard to miss."

Dylan glanced at Harper's console and then nodded. "I knew that I had fallen behind on Commonwealth politics, but you would think that after Tyr's gathering of the Prides, the Commonwealth would want to punish all these Nietzscheans equally—the Sabra-Jaguar and others for their secession and the Drago-Kazov for being the first to join Tyr."

He shook his head as he spoke. "But then again, nothing in the Commonwealth makes sense since the Collectors took it over." He barked a harsh laugh. "Who knows, maybe the Dragans are finally relaying their belated apologies to the Commonwealth."

Harper started to laugh in response and thought better of it. "First they put us on trial, and now they're allied with the Dragans? I'm telling you, Dylan, maybe we should've stayed on Tyr's good side after all."

After a quick glance at Andromeda's sensor readings, Beka shot Harper miffed look. "Are we forgetting that, as Dylan just said, the Dragans were the first ones to ally with Tyr?"

Andromeda took this opportunity to speak up. "That is correct, Beka, but it is becoming clear that the Dragans are _not_ allied with any of the Nietzscheans here. I can't pick up much chatter here, but the Dragans are claiming vengeance for 'the deepest betrayal' while the rest of the Nietzscheans are egging each other on with promises of power in a new world order.

"I don't know what's been happening between the Prides recently, but it's apparent that the so-called Nietzschean Alliance has split and that the Collectors have chosen to side with the Drago-Kazov Pride."

The avatar shook her head at the complete lack of logic organics exhibited. They never failed to amaze her.

"Listen guys, all this _Stratego_ stuff is fascinating, but I think we all just found a common enemy." All eyes swung to Harper, who was pointing at tiny dot at the edge of the battle scene and then down at his console. "The Magog are here. Looks like they smelled blood."

Dylan ordered an enlargement of the grey dot, which turned out to be a clawed Magog ship, followed by over a dozen more. Harper looked like he might punch through a bulkhead or become physically ill. Beka wore the determined expression of one near to swatting the creatures with the Maru and Dylan, ready to toss in a couple of slipfighters. Trance's eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms in a rare display of blunt anger. As for Rommie, she was readier for a fight than she'd ever been.

There was brief silence, and then Andromeda announced in her flattest tone that a Magog swarmship had spotted them. Beka gripped the pilot's controls, Dylan stood ready to shout his orders, and the rest were glued to their consoles.

Several Magog vessels peeled off the main fleet to attack the Andromeda. Beka jerked the ship in erratic zigs and zags, rending any targeting system useless. She avoided the swarmships that attempted to land on the Andromeda as Harper picked them off with everything from photon torpedoes to point-defense lasers. Dylan ordered the use of remote-slipfighters, which Trance took over as Harper manned the ship's weaponry. They sustained only a few minor hits and routed the Magog ships in a matter of minutes.

That was the good news. The bad news was that their skillful self-defense had attracted other ships in the area. Dragan destroyers left off their attack of their one-time allies to focus their efforts on the Andromeda. Fighting off one Nietzschean fleet was challenging enough, but their Commonwealth friends soon joined the fray.

"Dylan," Beka asked during the respite between the two attacks, "when did Rhade disappear? I could have sworn he was here when we took off in slipstream."

The Andromeda's captain cursed. "Dammit! I knew something was wrong when we were fighting off the Magog; our weapons officer wasn't at his post!"

Harper raised his hands. "That's because your resident lover _and_ fighter Seamus Harper took over when he noticed said weapons officer was MIA."

"And why didn't you bother to inform anyone else, Mr. Harper?"

"Hey, I thought you all had 20/20 vision!"

The budding argument was arrested as Dragan and Commonwealth ships loomed in an ominous sphere around the Andromeda, and klaxons began ringing like mad.

"Oh, crap," Harper muttered, now forgotten in the face of this unexpected and inconvenient alliance. "Isn't it nice to see that they've overcome their differences and learned to accept each other in the face of ganging up on Harper?"


	6. Of Names and Fate

A/N: You get two chapters today for being such wonderful little reviewers! But I still can't tell you about the kritta fish...

---------

Telemachus heard Andromeda's sirens blare as he sat in his quarters, privacy mode on. He had slipped out of Command as Beka was piloting the ship to Allpoints; slipstream was the best time for such quiet maneuvers, as no one quite felt themselves outside normal space. While he navigated the corridors back to his quarters, he wondered if Lieutenant Refractions of Dawn had been slipping when his ancestor had made his traitorous move on the Andromeda.

Telemachus Rhade thought about a lot of things as he paced his quarters, trying not to picture the rest of Andromeda's senior staff battling for their survival against the combined fleets he knew waited for them. He wondered if his parents had known their son's remarkable genetic resemblance to the infamous Gaheris Rhade and if that had influenced their decision to name him after Odysseus's son from the ancient human epic. He couldn't imagine that his family could have i_wanted/i_ him to grow up anything like Gaheris; Tarazed's Commonwealth blamed him among others for the fall of history's greatest civilization.

Telemachus, out of Penelope by Odysseus, had been left to his mother's care after his father had disappeared during the Trojan War. The young boy had grown up seeing his mother surrounded by unworthy suitors, only protected from their lusts for her and her estate by her own wit. The part that Telemachus Rhade mused on the most was the part of the story where Telemachus, son of Odysseus, came to manhood after earning respect for himself—apart from the great Odysseus—by planning the overthrow of the suitors and aiding in his father's defense of his family's honor. Telemachus out of Odysseus had earned his own name; would Telemachus Rhade likewise forge his own identity, or would he be dismissed as yet another treacherous Nietzschean, one in a long line of many?

He thought about the Commonwealth's three incarnations: the ten thousand year-old empire/republic, the miniature that had survived the Long Night on Tarazed, and the current government which had succumbed to corruption with astonishing speed. What was it about this newest Commonwealth that made it so susceptible to the unwholesome whims of powerful men and women?

Doubtless the old Systems Commonwealth had contained corrupt members, but the government itself had remained strong, prosperous, and generally fair until the Magog invasion. Tarazed might have been too small to experience the large-scale corruption that now riddled the restored Commonwealth, but he had attained the rank of Admiral and never heard whispers of such underhanded dealings, besides the business of Triumvir Raquelle—which, he admitted, she did commit with the truly best interests of the planet at heart. He couldn't say the same for the Collectors, who had sullied the name of that elite division of the All Sytems University and then proceeded to strong-arm their way into the highest levels of Commonwealth government and use it for their selfish ends.

When he had finally discovered the truth about Gaheris Rhade, he had raged for a long time at the treachery that stained his name. Then, as reports of the growing power and undue privilege of the Collectors reached him through confidential sources, he began to wonder if the Rhade clan was doomed, as in the ancient Greek myths he had come to study, to repeatedly betray friends and state. Gaheris lost everything to save his people from the weaknesses of a decadent system which had fallen so low that it compromised with monsters, and now Telemachus was faced with the Commonwealth—which he had defended time after time—falling again into rot.

The hardest part of all this, he discovered, was the play-acting he performed everyday for his crewmates, now his friends, and the plans that he helped to create behind their back. Plans to betray and ultimately deliver them into the hands of an enemy. None of them deserved treachery like this, not again, but Telemachus could not let his attachments prevent action that he knew could save the Known Worlds from the tyrannical Collectors. He felt what his fore-bearer must have felt and Tyr Anasazi, who had lived with these people for three years before pursuing the destiny that had been his since birth, the destiny that would unite his people and bring down the Pride he so despised.

With a start, Telemachus realized that the ship was no longer moving through space. Something was dragging her down. He knew what was happening and thought with bitter humor that Beka Valentine must find this sudden immobility very frustrating. He could picture her perfectly, railing at the useless and unresponsive piloting controls, and smiled a little at the image. Over the past few months, he had understood what had made Tyr so reluctant to leave, and Beka was not the smallest part of that.

Andromeda's klaxons were beginning to hurt his head, so loud had they become. The ship was on its highest alert, and Andromeda's voice was announcing through the ship that intruders had gained entry to an airlock. Telemachus stood with a weary sigh and stepped out of his quarters.


	7. A New Enemy or an Old Friend

"Intruders on board... intruders on board... intruders on board..."

Beka closed her eyes. She had heard that call a few times on the Maru, but never on the Andromeda. "No," she whispered, "not never." Now that she thought about it, this was the second time intruders had forced their way aboard the Andromeda. The tiny, ragged Orca Pride had first boarded the Andromeda without her permission, led by Tyr Anasazi. Whose side had he been on then? His own, of course.

This shouldn't be happening. The Andromeda could blow up a planet, if properly armed. She could take on fleets with the right battle plan. She had thwarted the Drago-Kazov Pride so often that she was on their Ten Most Wanted list, proudly at number one. Before Tyr had joined them, he had taken the number one spot.

Panicked noises surrounded her, but Beka leaned forward on her console and waited quietly, eyes still swimming in darkness. She had jabbed and weaved (and woven?) and crazy Ivaned to the best of her ability, but they had lost. Intruders were on board—Andromeda couldn't even tell them who they were yet—and there was nothing to do now but wait in the tense silence that had fallen on the Command center.

This time, Dylan didn't have a plan. How could he, against people he didn't know and couldn't number? Beka's mind wandered to Telemachus Rhade and what role, if any, he had in this takeover. She didn't like to stereotype, but it was hard when the guy had that particular last name and was a member of that particular species.

The doors to Command slid open, and Beka's eyes opened before she could think. No one could find the Command in such a short time from the hangar deck. No one without training aboard a Glorious Heritage class Heavy Cruiser, and there weren't many of those floating around the Known Worlds these days. No one without guidance, at least, from someone who had served aboard the Andromeda or one of her sister-ships.

She saw Nietzscheans, of course, armed with gauss guns and a few forcelances. She saw Than, dark green, and heard the murmurs of surprise from her friends. The Than refused to join the Commonwealth, but they had proved themselves reliable allies. The Than had never liked Nietzscheans much; they had irreconcilable cultural differences, and the Than viewed themselves as venerated, ancient race and the Nietzscheans as unruly upstarts.

No Perseids, to Beka's relief, but then she recognized members of a few Commonwealth worlds. She nearly cried when she saw some of the leaders; the Andromeda had attended their inaugural and witnessed their signing the Commonwealth charter.

Several intruders surrounded each crewmember, every one of them holding a gun. To Beka's surprise, though, they didn't seem excited for a chance to use them. They were doing a job, guarding the crew of the Andromeda, but they wanted to keep things peaceful. No one said a word.

Over a hundred humans, Nietzscheans, and Than entered the Command, and then uniformed guards formed a double row outside the doors.

Harper had recovered enough to ask if this was the entrance of the Grand High Poo-Bah traitor they were witnessing. A few jerked their heads in his direction, but no one responded. Beka found herself watching the door with growing anticipation, and when the moment came, she was not disappointed.

Two figures emerged, engrossed in conversation between themselves. No, Beka saw three figures, one of them much smaller than the others. She craned her neck and saw the two people she had most feared and least expected, in her heart, to see boarding the Andromeda. Well, one of them wasn't really boarding but obviously had aided and abetted the boarders.

Tyr Anasazi. Telemachus Rhade. Beka noticed that Telemachus wasn't in any way trying to kill Tyr or prevent his takeover of the Andromeda. They broke off their dialogue as they stepped into Command together. Beka's heart felt a little funny when she saw that Tyr had grown back his dreadlocks. Her eyes were locked on him, hoping he would speak soon and break the silence that had descended upon all of them.

(funny little note: I realized whilst editing that Tyr should not have been able to grow his hair back in less than a year. But let's remember that he's a Nietzschean and very genetically engineered, with millions of nanobots in his system... or you can just write it off to author's conceit.)


	8. A Reunion and an Introduction

Author's Note: Sorry if this bit seems short, but next week, you get another twofer, so bear with me, read and review!

--------

Telemachus felt a sudden, almost painful pang of sympathy when he saw Beka's expression of helpless shock. Tyr must have noticed it too; their conversation died when she came into sight. Telemachus also saw that despite this, Tyr's hand never wavered from the small figure at his side.

He knew who Tyr was gently leading, one of a very few privileged with that knowledge. Many of Tyr's companions had guessed, and some might even have guessed correctly. In a very short while, they would all know, and that knowledge would be broadcasted throughout the Known Worlds in the next few days. This battle was re-drawing the lines of alliances, and reactions to this announcement would determine who was on which side for the upcoming war.

Tyr cast a sharp-eyed gaze around the room, and though he looked mostly at Dylan while he spoke, it was Beka whose eyes he met first. The faintest of grins crossed his face when he saw Harper's murderous expression, and only Telemachus a foot away heard him whisper, "Good boy." Rhade had guessed at Tyr's feelings for Beka, but he was beginning to see exactly what Tyr had left behind to build his future; he had never respected his fellow Nietzschean as he did at that moment.

Hate, respect, or admire Tyr, everyone in the room focused solely on him when he spoke.

"All gathered here today have taken the great risk to ally with me—now or in the past—and so I feel it would be... honorable of me that you be the first to hear my announcement. I promise you this will be an historic moment recounted for generations."

Right on cue, Beka and Harper broke the hold Tyr held over his audience to exchange glances and rolled eyes. Their familiarity at a time like this was reassuring for Telemachus, who had known them but a short while. These were among the very few people throughout the galaxies who were who they were without apology or change for anyone.

Tyr guided the hooded figure to stand in front of him, and a tiny sigh echoed through the room. "We stand in the presence of one foretold by the Nietzschean people, a legend as scientific as it is fantastic. Genetic material and its continuation are at the core of my people's destiny, and they have yielded to us this one. This boy, i_my son_/i possesses, as do many Nietzscheans, genetic material of the original Progenitor." His voice dropped from its booming baritone. "But my son is different from the others, for he is the Progenitor reborn."

With a father's tenderness and a flair for the dramatic, Tyr pulled the hood down from the figure to reveal a curly-haired boy with wide brown eyes and a caramel complexion somewhere between his father's and his blonde mother's. In a voice too high for proclamations of this sort, the boy spoke. "I am Tamerlane Anasazi out of Freya by Tyr, of no Pride and of all Prides. I will unite my people and return us to the state envisioned by Drago Museveni. No more will bullies and slavers impede our path to enlightened rule of the stars. No more will the Drago-Kazov Pride rob us of our potential for civilization, nor will cowards and politicians shape i_our/i_ universe after this day!

"For three hundred years, the Dragans and their lackeys have beat our people... all of us... into submission, though we may be too proud to admit it. Now, on the starship Andromeda Ascendant, hope will live again!"

Many of the humans on board broke into cheers, and the Than chittered with what sounded like excited approval. The Nietzscheans looked very grave but determined. As for Andromeda's crew...

"So this is the genetically reincarnated Drago Museveni," Beka said, not really asking. She couldn't help a brief smile. "Cute kid. He has your eyes, Tyr. And hey, he's also the savior of the Nietzschean people. Convenient." Beka was admiring a child, not paying her respects to a messiah.

Tyr turned off what Telemachus thought of as his PA voice when he responded. "It would be easier for me if you were swayed by speeches, but I can hardly expect easy from Captain Beka Valentine. Your Andromeda may run genetic tests if you wish; I have the body of the Progenitor available."

The woman shrugged. "Nah, I believe that you could will your chromosomes and what's-her-name's to rearrange into the exact pattern of ol' Drago's. I'm just surprised you didn't will yourself the Progenitor reborn." She leaned against her console and forced a casual pose. "Why this grand declaration on the Andromeda, though? And what's with the entourage?" She grinned. "Need a little protection from our motley crew?" Her eyes fell on Telemachus, and her smile fell. "Speaking of our motley crew..."

Tyr looked from Beka to Telemachus and came to decision. "You've always proved loyal to your crew, Beka. Perhaps it will help to hear it from someone fortunate enough to still be a part of it." He nodded at Rhade.


	9. On the Shape of the Universe

A/N: I was reading over my old fic and realized that I had never updated this as promised! Please accept my deepest apologies... and to show that you've forgiven me, read and review!

-------------

_The Drago-Kazov ships had descended upon Perses like a swarm of locusts. Always the people hoped they would stay away and knew in their hearts that they would return. Whether slaves or munitions or natural resources would bring them back was impossible to tell and pointless, but they would come. The Persese fought magnificently when they landed, and the Dragans had been startled by the ferocity and capability of their former slaves. This courage was the only strength the Persese had, for the Dragans were armed with ships, weapons, and surprise. And intimidation, more effective than ever against these people who feared them as much as they hated them. _

_After the Dragans had seized what they could collect in a short time, they sped off into the stars. Classified information had prophesied this battle, and the Dragans would not come into it unprepared. They had brought down the Systems Commonwealth at its full power and grasped control of the ruins left over. They had lost much of their power in the first days of chaos and in-fighting, but they had remained the strongest entity in the Known Worlds for three hundred years. The Drago-Kazov Pride would not fall now._

_Secret couriers sent messages prepared long in advance from far reaches of known spaces to great centers of power. Replies were unnecessary; their supposed allies would be in place when the war began or they wouldn't._

_The Than had proved a disappointment but not one unexpected. The insectoid creatures with their anonymous lineages and dusty recollections of greatness had always opposed the goals of the Nietzschean people—most of all, those of the Drago-Kazov Pride. One of the Commonwealth's Triumvir stood firmly in their path, and that was an issue. Another was wavering and the third in Dragan pockets._

_The Collectors, apparently, had failed to persuade Tri-Lorn to join them in their crusade against Dylan Hunt. The Dragans had uncovered an encrypted message to the same Captain Hunt assuring him of Tri-Lorn's loyalty from the man himself. It was vexing to discover that the Triumvir was a man of his word._

_But worse than the Commonwealth elements faithful to Dylan, led by Tri-Lorn, was the Nietzschean Alliance, led by Tyr Anasazi. Humans had bizarre whims, and there was no helping that. Nietzscheans, on the other hand, acted out of reliable self-interest, and only a fool could believe that opposition of the Drago-Kazov Pride was self-interest. Never had so many Nietzscheans acted so foolishly since a fleet of Nietzscheans loyal to the old Commonwealth had attacked the Dragan space ports and nearly destroyed them during the last year of the Uprising. _

_The renegade Kodiak had deceived them all with dreams of a united Nietzschean empire under Dragan control. The Dragans tended to gloss over this part of the story and focus on the betrayal that had taken place soon after Tyr faked his death. That was also when he had proved traitor the Spirit of the Abyss, and no one with any sort of survival instinct defied the creator of the Magog. The orphan had gathered the other Prides to him, and as one, they had expelled the Drago-Kazov Pride from their union. Long-standing allies had spit on them, and their messiah had disgraced them._

_There was nothing left but for the Dragans to crush these traitors and teach the galaxies this lesson once and for all. They would do it with the strong right arm of the Special Collections Division, grown corrupt of late and easily maneuvered. The human clichés had proved correct in this instance; knowledge was power, and power had corrupted. And after Tyr's betrayal of the God of the Magog, the enigmatic Spirit and the Dragan Alpha had found a common enemy to join them in an alliance for a short time. Finally, Kalderans had taken up arms due to a long-held fear and hatred of any resurgence of large government, especially one resembling the Systems Commonwealth._

_So the Dragans had pillaged Perses and then slipped to Allpoints, the strategic location agreed upon on past meetings with the Collectors. They had anticipated a gathering of ships there but couldn't have guessed the number that would await them. As they had built their alliance, Tyr had wasted not a second building his own, and most surprising of many surprises that day was the arrival of the Andromeda Ascendant._

Telemachus stopped, out of breath and finished with his tale. "We've known what was to come for a long time and guessed what we couldn't know. We saw the Collectors gain control of the Commonwealth and knew that the Dragans would not hesitate to contact them once we broke our alliance with them. It was never meant to last.

"The Than had noticed a similar trend in recent events and hesitantly extended the figurative olive branch with the support of the tattered remains of the All-Systems University. Together, we made contact with Tri-Lorn, who has become one our most staunch allies."

Trance leaned over and whispered something in Harper's ear, who looked more shocked at her quiet words than at Telemachus's account of ultimate betrayal. "Trance, I can't," he exclaimed in a breathless voice.

"Harper, I've never been more sure of anything except once—when I saved your life from the larvae," she replied, uncaring of who heard. "I will not ask you to believe them, merely to reserve your judgment for a later day." The engineer granted this favor and subsided. He hadn't promised Trance not to glare and did so with vigor, favoring Telemachus and Tyr with the majority.

Dylan was less easily persuaded. "I've trusted you more than I've trusted anyone, Trance, but I've been in this situation too many times now to take anyone's word that it's all gonna be okay. God, is this one of the universe's running gags?" he asked disgustedly. "That was a great story, Rhade, but I don't buy it."

Telemachus cocked his head at Tyr and then gave Dylan a bitter smile. "Then look at the evidence. Look outside."

Without breaking eye contact with Telemachus, Dylan ordered Andromeda to bring the battle up on the viewscreen and report her sensor readings. Rommie crossed her arms as she recited her sensor data. "The ships accompanying those which broke into my hangar are currently firing upon a fleet bearing Dragan designs and displaying well-known Dragan tactics. The Magog are firing upon everyone, but their attack has hurt the Collectors and the Drago-Kazov ships much less than the others."

She paused, and Telemachus was amazed to hear a resonance of deep emotion in her voice. "Commonwealth ships are attacking each other, and several are aiding the Dragan ships in an attempt to break past the seemingly protective ring that has encircled us." On screen, neon weapons-fire and exploding starships confirmed Andromeda's words.

"Either this is the real deal, or it's the best scam I've ever seen," Beka commented. "And I've seen a lot." She looked at Dylan. "The mysterious golden one likes their story, and Harper's oh-so-reluctantly on board. Andromeda just confirmed most of what he said, and, uh, I think I believe it too. I don't like it, but I don't think I have much choice. It's up to you what happens next. Listen, I know you're tired of these Nietzscheans and their triple-crossing, but maybe they somehow got themselves on the right side this time."

Beka managed a thin smile. "If not, you still got this bad girl on your side," she nodded at Rommie, "and this one, no matter what." The look she gave him was beyond friendship and love to a bond forged in trials and ice and fire and shared hopes for a fundamentally different universe.

Dylan gazed at the faces of his crew for a long moment before he spoke. He seemed to be memorizing this place and time and the faces gathered therein. "For now, Tyr, we want the same shape for the universe. For now, we fight together."


	10. Shrillers and The World According to Har...

He would never have that closeness with the Andromeda's crew again. No matter what they would endure together and what they had survived before this, they couldn't forget what he had hidden from them. He could feel them wondering sometimes if he was hiding something else. Promising them that he was their ally would do no good; one didn't have to like an ally, let alone engage in relaxed, teasing dialogue with one. He would miss that the most, and Beka's heated little glares when she thought he couldn't see. It had all been so honest.

Telemachus was no psychic; he fought for his beliefs with all his strength and knew others were doing so as well, but he couldn't say that he knew the ending to all this. Likely it wouldn't end, and the Dragans with their Commonwealth allies would threaten them until the day he died, but at least he was part of an alliance that would fight them for as long as needed.

Harper hopped down from his bunk to fall nearly atop Rhade. "Hey, where'd you come from?" He righted himself. "Er, that wasn't an invitation to grace me with your lineage."

"You humans never do appreciate a good familial recitation when you hear it. I returned from the cockpit where Captain Valentine was updating me on strategy."

Harper sat on the lower bunk and gripped the bars above him. "It's back to Captain Valentine, huh?" He sighed. "I hate it when people tell me they know how I feel, but I think I kinda know how you might feel. You never can go home." He nodded. "Believe me, I know what it's like to do something you think is for the good of everyone, and even when you succeed, it's never the same.

"You left the Andromeda for the Nietzschean Alliance, even if you never left your quarters, and I left Earth for the Maru. I was sure I'd come back and help one day… and I did. I don't know how much good it did, but it riled up the Dragans pretty good, and that's always a success, as found in the World According to Harper. When I did came back, I had on new clothes and cool toys, and I'd lost that sorta pale, pinched look that everyone in the ghetto gets sooner or later. There was always that distance between us after that, between me and the rest of the gang. Boston hadn't changed, and they thought I had."

Telemachus couldn't speak for a couple of seconds. "But you hadn't, not really. You were the same person who left them, but your friends looked a little different this time." He paused. "The World According to Harper?"

"Oh yeah." Harper grinned. "Great book. Pissing off the Dragans takes up a couple of chapters. You know, we really need to look into investing in a few dozen shrillers."

Rhade looked pained. "How about investing in a few dozen earplugs first? We may have new friends, but we're still allies."

Harper laughed. "Hey, that's your business. Isn't the Nietzschean motto something about always being prepared?"

"If I catch one of those things laying around, I will repay you the agony a shriller with the recitation of my _illustrious_ lineage until your ears bleed."

Maybe he did have new friends now, but none of them could have appreciated this moment. A few days later, Telemachus returned to the battle with more optimism for himself and his allies than he'd felt in a long time. After all, the Dragans didn't have shrillers.

-------

A/N: And that's all, folks! I know, I know, I suck at endings. My other Andromeda WIP, _Where We Come From_, is being dredged up after the travails of NaNo, so expect it to begin appearing again soon-ish!


End file.
